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chilling-seavey · 10 hours ago

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First Title, Second Blessing (gr63)

The Way It Goes Masterlist

↳ A/N Oooh boy, this one was a long time coming. Thank you to this anon who was the one who finally triggered me to go all out and write this...in detail. You wanted breeding kink? Well you came to the right place. I hope you all enjoy 😶‍🌫️

↳ Pairings: Husband!Dad!George Russell x Wife!Mom!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 13.4k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, trying for a baby!!, breeding kink!!, hints of patriarchy kink ('my pretty little wife' vibes), George is such a bossy pleasure dom, dirty talk, begging, nipple play, grinding, brief oral sex (f receiving), restraining with hands/trapping her under his weight, spanking, some biting/spitting, choking, finger sucking, use of a vibrator, crying from pleasure, he gets so deep that it hurts and she likes it, pushing down on her belly, multiple orgasms, it gets messyyy and it gets louddd, sloppy seconds, mentions of queefs and body hair and similiar realistic concepts, unprotected sex and creampie(s) (duh).

Late November

George Russell won his first Championship at the same circuit at which, years earlier, he won his first race. He stood on the top step of the podium, a win to solidify the greatest win of all, and held his trophy aloft as tears poured down his flushed cheeks. He could hardly see the crowd cheering his name through the tears and the spray of champagne, the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears and echoing through his head. This was a lifetime accomplishment. His biggest dream, reality.

You had wiped his tears later that afternoon in his driver’s room, kissing them away as you clung onto him. He was still damp from the podium, champagne and drying sweat plastering his hair over his head after his 1st Place Pirelli cap was knocked to the floor in the rush of your embrace. You were just as in disbelief as he was, just as buzzing, praising him over and over in your momentary privacy between post-race responsibilities. When he lifted you up off the ground just a bit, you squealed gleefully into his neck.

There was no better feeling than watching the one you love achieve their greatest dream.

The night after the race was a blur; moving between bars and clubs in the ritziest areas of São Paulo with half the grid and most of the Mercedes team in tow. Flashing lights, loud music, sweaty bodies…George didn’t leave your side for the majority of the night, always keeping you within arms reach. You didn’t return to your hotel room until daybreak, donning last-night's clothes and the lingering scent of other people’s sweat and spilled alcohol.

On the chartered private jet that morning, sharing the cabin with a few of the other drivers who doubled as George’s friends, everyone was uncharacteristically quiet. Lando was curled up against the window, his bucket hat pulled low over his eyes and hoodie nearly swallowing him, groaning outwardly about his mega hangover. Charles, across from him, who at least had the smarts to be drinking water, couldn’t have rolled his eyes farther back if he tried. Oscar and Alex were already fast asleep beside them.

Across the aisle, you and George were curled up together like honeymooners. On the seats across from you, his commemorative bottle of champagne sat in its protective wooden box. Despite the raging hangovers that your friends were facing from the partying the night before, you and George were delightfully calm—albeit exhausted.

You had been surprised that no one realized both you and he had been avoiding alcohol all night, apart from one celebratory glass of champagne and one group shot of tequila near the beginning. Surprisingly, the night was still just as wonderful sober…perhaps it was the adrenaline still coursing through the both of you that allowed you to feel just as drunk as the rest of your group. It all felt a little scandalous to have been avoiding alcohol in bars all night but you had a plan and you were set on sticking to it. Besides, not being hungover for a twelve-hour flight was a bonus.

You and George slept most of the flight, cuddled up and leaning on each other in as comfortable a position as you could manage on an airplane. With a stopover in Nice to drop off your Monaco-residing friends, the private jet then took the two of you home to London.

It was mid-morning when you landed in England and after retrieving George’s car from the valet, you headed towards your town. It was a stunning autumn day, surprisingly sunny with sprawling blue skies over multi-coloured trees and harvested fields. The countryside of England always revealed its true beauty under all the dreariness that often took up the landscape.

It felt good to be home. Normal. Normal amidst the fact that everything was different now; George was the newest World Champion and, soon, his name would be on the trophy and displayed alongside other greats in the hall of fame. Compared to the excitement that burned within you, Cambridgeshire felt so calm.

You stopped for lunch in town at some family restaurant that you and George always liked. While you ate and shared ramblings and recaps of the race and the season (that both of you were already immensely familiar with) together, a few fans came past your table to politely ask for photos or autographs. George, beaming, happily complied. You played your role of photographer where you could.

George’s family, of course, wanted to celebrate his big win with him, but they also understood that after a grueling race weekend and a long-haul flight, an immediate visit might not be feasible. You were grateful for their patience—and even more so for the fact that his parents were still looking after your son, just as they had all week while you both were in Brazil. Besides, the little boy would never complain about one more night with his grandparents.

With your toddler away, your house was strangely quiet when you finally stepped over the threshold after nearly twenty-four hours of travel. George let out a relieved sigh as he set his suitcase down against the wall of the foyer as if he had just returned from half a year abroad.

“Wow,” said George, simply, “Home.”

You turned to face him, taking in the way he stood there, hands on his hips, looking around the familiar space as if seeing it anew. The weight of everything—the season, the victory, the sheer exhaustion of travel—hung between you for a moment. So much had changed in the span of a year or even just a few months.

You curled your arms around his middle and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth with a sweet, “Welcome home, World Champion.”

His eyes met yours fondly, his shoulders relaxing slightly at the familiar sight of you, and he slid his arms around you as you melted against his chest in a tender embrace. His movements were unhurried, calm, relaxed, finally able to take it slow after a season of fast paced adrenaline, finding refuge in your presence.

“Thank you, my love.”

He gave you a quick kiss to your lips. The silence of the large farmhouse after the ear-piercing excitement and noise of the last week was a stark comparison; equal parts strange and relaxing.

After a moment to adjust to your arrival home, you led the way upstairs with the large wooden box containing the bottle of champagne in your arms, George trailing after you with your modest suitcases. The silence of the large farmhouse after the ear-piercing excitement and noise of the last week was a stark comparison; equal parts strange and relaxing.

Once in your shared bedroom, you rested the box on the dresser and George sat the suitcases down on the floor. Just like he always did as soon as he returned home, he knelt down and unzipped his suitcase right away and started to pull out the dirty laundry to put away.

“I don’t think it’s settled in yet, you know?” he said to you over his shoulder as he gathered his laundry and carried it into the walk-in closet to toss it in the hamper, “It feels so surreal; winning it. Almost like, ‘now what?’.”

In reply came your casual hummed “mhm” of acknowledgement.

When he stepped back into the bedroom, the sight of you in only your bra and thong and kneeling in the centre of your neatly made king size bed as if waiting patiently had him halting in his tracks in surprise. You nibbled at your bottom lip at his stunned expression, trying to hide the bashful smile that was creeping its way across your face.

His eyes trailed down your body as if unable to take his eyes off you, wanting to take in every inch, before he mumbled out a breathy, “Jesus, love…”

You giggled softly, “What?”

He continued to stare at you, “You can't just show up on the bed in nothing but a bra and panties…”

“Why not?” you asked cheekily,

“Because…” George faded out with an exasperated sigh despite the obvious smile on his face and he set his hands on his hips. In reality, he had no excuse, no reason. You had a way of short-circuiting his brain in moments like this and especially when it was a complete surprise and the last thing he expected the moment they got home.

Filling in the momentary silence, you cocked your head to the side in a sweet manner, asking in a voice that was almost a purr, “Wanna come put a baby in me?”

Your simple request had his eyelashes fluttering through his deep inhale, as if letting your words wash over him entirely.

George knew—very well, thank you—that you had agreed to start trying for another baby after the season ended or when he won the Title, whichever came first. Now, back home in your empty house after his Championship winning race, both of you having forgone alcohol the night before regardless of how hard everyone was partying just for the sake of a successful future conception, there was a very obvious intent in the air.

You watched as he took a step towards the bed, his eyes never leaving your body, his voice a low, teasing, “Are you really that impatient? Couldn’t even let us unpack first?”

“Mhm,” you answered plainly with a sweethearted smile, “Peak ovulation is tomorrow so we gotta get a move on.”

George, now standing at the side of the bed, placed a knee on the edge of the mattress to draw himself closer to you, his eyes roaming over your body once more, “Naughty little minx.”

You licked your lips as he knelt in front of you in the middle of your shared bed, protesting despite your smile, “It’s not naughty.”

“Ripping all your clothes off and demanding me to put a baby in you is pretty naughty to me,” George countered, his hands falling to your bare waist and gave you a squeeze.

Your nose brushed against his ever so slightly, taunting him with a gentle, “Well, are you still up for it, Champion?”

George’s chuckle was low, tilting his face just enough to exchange the bump of your noses for a graze of your lips, the simple action shooting a spark of heat through you. He left the faintest kiss to your lips, barely there, taunting, before muttering, “Of course, I definitely think I want to celebrate properly.”

Your face naturally turned towards his as he drew closer, your eyes all over his familiar features and your hands sliding up his chest and to his shoulders. He leaned in to kiss you deeply, lips pressed to yours in a kiss backed with passion and need, as if he had been holding himself back for days. With the Championship on the line, it had been hard to focus on anything else but, now, with that out of the way, everything that once felt secondary came rushing back.

You couldn’t deny the need that had been growing within you since the middle of that weekend. Perhaps it was the fact that the race weekend aligned all too perfectly with your ovulation, or perhaps it was the fact that seeing your husband finally achieve his childhood dream, standing on the top of the world, dedicating his win to your family, stirred something raw and wanting within you. George was your everything, your little family was everything, and you would give him the world if you could.

His large hands groped the doughy flesh over your hips a little tighter as if trying to pull you closer, his lips smacking wetly with yours as your kisses grew more desperate. Kneeling in front of each other in the middle of your bed, it almost felt as though you were about to partake in a faceoff, arms wrapping around each other until there was virtually no space left between you. With him still fully dressed and you mostly naked, your perfectly quiet house welcomed the sound of your sloppy kisses.

“Mm,” George hummed lowly as he broke away from your lips and trailed heated kisses down your neck, “I’ve been thinking about getting you naked all day…and all last night.”

“I’m offering myself up to you now,” you purred.

“Yeah, you are,” he praised, hands sliding down to grab your ass and pull you impossibly closer, just enough so you could feel the tightness over the front of his slacks, “Such a good girl for me.”

You let out a pretty moan at his tug, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders and fingers curling into the material of his shirt, eyes fluttering closed and teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Neither of you had showered after your lengthy flight or had a proper sleep outside of the luxury private jet seats but nothing of the sort mattered at that moment. Instead, husband and wife, all too comfortable with each other after years of devotion and infatuation, you wanted each other just as strongly as ever. It couldn’t wait.

George’s hands groped your ass and one pulled back to give you a small spank, the sharp sound echoing through your quiet bedroom. You gasped tightly and arched into him as his hands slid up your back and blindly found the clasp of your bra as he kissed and nipped at your neck.

“Give me this, now…” he mumbled against your skin, with that rich addicting lust to his voice that always had your panties soaked.

His fingers worked nimbly at the clasp of your bra as if he needed it gone as soon as possible. Ever the expert at taking off your bra, he had it unclasped in a second and you moved your arms off his shoulders to help him get it off you entirely. He tossed it to the floor without a second look and slung an arm around your waist as he dipped down to take one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your head dropped back with a pleasured gasp and your fingers tangled in the back of his hair to keep his mouth on your chest. George’s strong arm tugged harder around your waist, keeping you flush against him with your hips against his as he bent down to suck on your breasts. With his tongue swirling around one of your nipples, his free hand tended to the other with purposeful tugs and rolls between thumb and forefinger, getting them nice and hard and already causing your insides to stir with arousal. It was almost embarrassingly easy for you to get turned on when you were ovulating and George always made the most of that fact over the years, using it to his advantage just to see how much you could take until you were nearly sobbing for it.

George pulled away from your breast to tend to the other, dragging his tongue over your nipple first before taking it in his mouth with a greedy suck, framing it with his large hand around the expanse of your skin. He squeezed and showered you in tongue-led kisses and possessive suckles that left blushing red marks across your chest. Your fingers locked in the roots of his hair and the slight tug had him groaning against your breast and pulling away with a wet pop.

His lips were back on yours in an instant, swallowing you up in a fierce kiss that ripped the air from your lungs. Even after your years together, he still knew how to kiss you breathless. You couldn’t help but tug at the back of his shirt over his shoulders as he kissed you, pulling at the fabric until a sliver of his back was exposed to the room. George took the hint and broke away from your kiss just long enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor, leaving him in just his slacks that were already tenting across the front. Sparks crackled between you as his hands grabbed your hips and he leaned in to kiss you again, nearly bending you backwards a little with how insistent he was with it. Your arms slung around his now bare shoulders and your tongue pushed against his as if wanting to taste just how much he craved you.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” George groaned into your mouth between sloppy kisses, his hands roaming all over your bare body as if mapping the familiar expanse of your skin, “and all mine.”

“All yours,” you echoed dreamily.

His lips ghosted across your cheek, his hot breath against your neck and his voice almost slurred with lust, “All fucking mine.”

George’s hands slid down to the backs of your thighs and he heaved you up off your knees so you fell backwards onto the mattress and decorative throw pillows with a surprised squeal. The two of you shared light laughter as he situated himself over top of you and dipped down to kiss you some more, your hands raising to the side of his face to hold his lips on yours. Your giggles faded into the focus of your passionate kisses, heat pouring through your veins with him positioned over top of you like that, so easily able to take you over.

Instinctively, your legs had parted to allow him to settle between them and he blindly dropped a hand down to pull one of your legs tight around his waist. You moaned softly into his mouth, body arching underneath him to try and get situated into that perfect angle that would have your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. George’s hand took advantage of your momentary arch, sliding his arm under the small of your back to tug you into place so his thighs were trapping yours outwards, holding you in place.

Your fingers tangled in the roots of his hair as he rolled his body against yours so you could feel the bulge in the front of his pants pressing right up between your legs, his bare chest aligned with yours, lips locked in a fiery kiss. George licked the soft moan from your mouth and when he pulled away for a moment, his teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

His eyes found yours in your close proximity—only centimeters apart—both of you already a little breathless, staring into each other’s lust-filled gaze. The gorgeous blue of his irises was almost entirely diluted to black from his pupils from just one look at you and a little taste of your lips. When he looked at you like that, in moments such as those, any possible doubt of his love for you was wiped from your mind. No one had ever looked at you like that before him, and no one would after him. There was only him.

“George…” you breathed, wrapping your legs around his waist and linking your ankles together behind his back while your thumb grazed over his kiss-swollen bottom lip.

He spoke your name in reply, just as soft and tender before pressing a slow kiss to the pad of your thumb. Framed by his forearms on either side of you, you were pleasantly trapped by him and cradled by the decorative pillows of your marital bed.

George closed the miniscule distance between you, gently pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. One…and then two, and then a third; slow, soft, gentle, still staring into each other’s eyes under heavy eyelids. You squirmed a little, arms snaking behind his biceps to rest against his shoulders and your legs tightening around his waist to lock him against you as the anticipation was driving you mad. He gave you one more tender kiss before dipping down towards your neck, attaching his lips just under your jaw in a manner that felt a hell of a lot more intense than the kisses he had just sweetened you up with.

Your mouth fell open with a silent gasp, clinging onto his shoulders tighter as your head arched back a little to give him room. George trailed down your neck in wet open-mouthed kisses, teasing your most sensitive spots with his tongue and making you shiver with soft breaths across the damp skin. But it was the sudden roll of his hips against yours that pulled an audible gasp from your chest, your fingers pressing into his muscular back at the same time, taunted by what you wanted most.

George was already so hard and you could feel him through his slacks, tenting the fabric over his straining erection, proof that he had been wanting this all weekend just as urgently as you. It was growing uncomfortable, how wet you were getting, and you pushed your hips up against his to chase some more of that friction. He moaned against your neck at your needy action, grinding a little harder down against you to keep you pinned underneath him.

“You sure you're ready for this?” he asked huskily against your ear, his body rutting strongly against yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled as you tightened your ankles around him to pull him impossibly closer, hands splaying over his exposed back, miles of muscle under your possessive palms. He ground against you stronger, more insistently, pulling another whining gasp from your throat, “I need it so bad. Need you to knock me up.”

“You need it, huh?” he taunted, his voice dripping with need before he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin, “You want me to put a baby in you, right here and now?”

“Ugh,” you withered, eyelids fluttering at his words and body squirming underneath him, “Please, George.”

George pried your legs away from his waist so he could sit back on his knees and then he gave your thigh a little tap with a soft, “Hang on, let me push down the covers.”

You frowned reluctantly up at him, already comfortable where you were and already falling into that blissed out mindset. The last thing you wanted to do was move.

He smiled at your pout—not even needing to hear your protest to know what you were thinking—and reminded you with a cock of his head to get you to comply, “Come on. We’re not going to want to have to wash the duvet after.”

Of course he was right, so you shifted to help him pull back the covers to the foot of the bed so you were draped out on the fitted sheet and, then, rightfully back in your cozy spot amongst the decorative pillows.

George didn’t miss a beat as he eased you back into the comfort of his touch by trailing wet kisses down your body, starting from your neck. He kissed over your collarbones and your breasts and sucked on your nipples a little more just to make you writhe and moan under his touch before moving down your stomach. He pushed your thighs towards your chest and dragged his nose between your legs over the damp fabric of your panties. You could hear him inhale, breathing in the scent of your arousal. All because of him.

Your hand carded through his hair as he settled between your legs and his long eyelashes rested on his flushed cheeks as he pressed a slow open mouthed kiss over your clothed clit. It barely felt like anything but was still just enough that you flinched in anticipation, whining to the ceiling with need for more. You tugged a little at his hair, urging him to leave another slow kiss to the apex of your thighs, right over the spot where the fabric of your thong was hugged by your lips.

“You’re teasing…” you warned in a breath.

George smiled cheekily against you, raising his eyes to yours with his face still hidden between your legs and his arms wrapped around your thighs as he kissed your pussy again. You were so wet that despite your underwear, when he pulled away, a faint string of your arousal connected his lips to you.

George exhaled shakily and slid his fingers down over the fabric of your panties, almost able to see how you throbbed underneath them. He leaned in for another kiss, leading with his tongue for a teasing taste, still taunting you behind the protection of your underwear. When he pulled away again, he pressed the pad of his thumb down over your clothed clit. His voice was a low rumble, “Can’t believe how soaked you are already…Jesus.”

You laughed softly, raking your fingers through his hair as he turned his head to kiss your inner thigh and you answered him softly, “Don’t you love when I’m—”

“Ovulating? Yeah.” he answered for you, words muffled between his kisses along the supple skin of your inner thigh, trailing back towards your cunt. His firm hands kept you legs out of the way as he nuzzled his face closer and inhaled deeply before he let it out with a hungry moan and a muttered, “Fuck, you smell so good, too.”

“God, that’s so fucking hot, baby…” you exhaled, hips naturally trying to push up against his face.

George lifted himself up from between your legs just enough to press his hands into the mattress on either side of your body and he nipped at the soft flesh of your hip before sucking a little hickey into the skin. The perfectly made bed sheets wrinkled under the two of you as George sat back on his knees between your spread legs and he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your thong, tugging on it slowly, “Let’s get these off you.”

You lifted your hips for him as he started to pull your underwear down over your hips. The damp fabric clung to your pussy as he peeled them away and you shivered as the cool air of the air conditioned bedroom grazed over your bare skin. George’s eyes were trained in on your dripping cunt even as he guided your thong down your bent legs and off your ankles with a habitual lick to his lips, dropping the soiled fabric to the bed beside you without a second glance.

He kept his eyes on you as he started to unbutton his slacks, positioned on his knees between your spread legs, taking in your naked body splayed out before him. The need that had been growing within you had your hand reaching down to touch yourself, trying to ease some of the immense ache that was starting to feel rather unbearable. You were so wet that you both could hear it as you slid your fingers between your legs and gathered up some of that delicious wetness to rub over your clit.

George shifted to get out of his slacks and he dropped them off the end of the bed, leaving him in only his boxers that did a very poor job at concealing his very obvious erection. Otherwise naked apart from the ring on his left hand, George situated himself between your spread legs and his hand joined yours over your pussy, nudging you aside so he could have full reign of you, smearing your growing wetness around a little more himself. Your hands wrapped around his biceps as you stared adoringly up at him as he touched you.

With your legs parted wide for him, the utmost trust shared between you, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you stared up at his face, watching his lust-filled expression as he watched how his careful fingertips caressed your pussy. George pulled his hand back for a second to take the tips of his three middle fingers into his mouth to moisten them up a little more before dropping them back down to continue where he left off. Little, gentle swirls over your clit…down to your leaky pussy…back up.

Your toes curled at the sensations, how gentle and precise he was being, knowing just how to touch you. You let out a little pleasant hum, squirming a little beneath him. When your grip tightened around his bicep, he tore his eyes away from your cunt to meet your gaze.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” George said lowly, “Dripping all over my hand already and I’ve barely even touched you.”

He tilted his hand to rub the full length of his fingers along your pussy, hearing the slick wet sound of just how wet you were. You whined and squirmed a little, spreading your legs wider to welcome more of his touch.

“Fuck, look at you,” George exhaled, pulling his fingers back to see how they were still attached to your messy cunt in thick strings of wetness. He rubbed his fingertips together and then brought them to his mouth to lick off, some of it dripping down his forearm in the process. With a quick suck of the tips of his three fingers, he dropped them back down to rub at your clit in firm, precise circles, purring out a low, “My messy girl.”

You reached your hands down to curl your fingers in the waistband of his underwear in an attempt to remove the last article of clothing between you. But, in an instant, George’s fingers were wrapping around your wrists to stop you and he leaned over you to pin them down beside your head.

“Be a good girl and let me do what I want with you,” he spoke firmly with that unmissable lust in his voice.

With his hands still pinning your wrists down, George shuffled a little closer so your thighs were held back by his, allowing him to push his hips down against yours once more. You stared up into his eyes as he settled, your mouth falling open with a mute gasp at the feeling of his hard cock pushed right up against your naked cunt, only separated by his boxers. He was so fucking hard and your eyes fluttered at the feeling, choking out a small sound as he rolled his hips against yours.

It felt so insanely good, heat coursing through your veins, every touching feeling like fire thanks to how needy and sensitive you were due to that time of your cycle. Your natural urge to reproduce skyrocketed during ovulation and the fact that you were finally going to be able to lean into that humanistic desire without holding back made it all the more intense and thrilling.

“Fuck, darling—” you whimpered out, back arching off the bed a little to meet his grinds.

“Mm, that’s it…” George exhaled heavily. His hands tightened around your wrists and he rutted against you a little harder until the tent at the front of his boxers was fitting between your swollen lips, rocking against you with every few words, “Show me how much you want me…soak me…that’s it.”

Your eyes screwed shut and your head tilted back with a broken whine, hands bunching into fists where he held them down on either side of your head as the overwhelm so quickly took you over. You pulled your legs back by your own free will, desperate to feel more of him, unable to control the pathetic whines that were tumbling from your lips even as your teeth sunk into your bottom one.

Heaving your head up to look between you at the limited to no space between your chests, you could already feel yourself getting breathless, spurred on by the friction of him rutting against you. You could hardly lay still as the feeling grew and your legs wrapped around his waist to tug him harder down on top of you. George grunted faintly, shifting his hands off your wrists to, instead, intertwine his fingers with yours to hold your hands, still pinning them to the pillows beside your head.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded desperately, “Please, baby, kiss me.”

George didn’t need to be asked twice and he dipped down to capture your lips with his in a steamy kiss. The two of you shared hungry groans into each other’s mouths, made ungraceful by the way he was rutting against you. Your hands clutched onto his tightly, grounding yourself in his touch, while your legs around his waist encouraged you to try and meet his motions, the desperation that coursed through you making you writhe needily against his body and the bed.

But then he was pulling away again; letting go of your hands and sitting back on his knees. Before you had a chance to complain about the loss of contact, you were distracted by the large wet stain smeared over his clothed erection thanks to the way he had been grinding against you and, almost immediately, he was shoving down his briefs. The sight of his impressively hard cock had your mouth watering like it so often did, staring shamelessly at it and the way it bobbed in the air as he shuffled to get his underwear off completely.

When you reached down to try and touch him, he nudged your hand aside with a simple, “Roll over. Hands and knees.”

You giggled sweetly and the implication of what was coming had your stomach filling with eager butterflies, helping you float yourself from your back onto your stomach. On your knees and flat hands in the centre of your shared bed, you presented yourself to him with a little wiggle of your hips, luring him in. As if he needed any luring.

George’s hand came down hard against one of your cheeks in a sharp spank, forcing your body to tense in momentary surprise, pulling in a gasp, before relaxing. Another giggle fell from your lips as you glanced back at him over your shoulder, flinging your hair out of the way in the process. Another spank.

“There you go,” George praised you warmly, shuffling up closer on his knees until he could drag the head of his cock between your lips, “my pretty girl. My pretty wife.”

“Put it in,” you whined, trying to push back on him to do it yourself.

George’s breath shuddered at your blunt request, only letting the tip of his dick prod at the sopping entrance of your pussy as his hand came across your ass again in an echoing spank. He rubbed his hand over your flesh that had started to blossom in a pretty shade of light pink from his strikes, warning you in soft reprimand, “Is that any way to speak to your husband?”

“Please,” you tried again, “please, George, I need you so fucking bad, darling—”

He held your hip with one hand while his other kept himself steady to slowly sink inside you and, when he was in halfway, he had a two-handed grip on your hips to slowly pull you deeper onto him. Your eyes fluttered shut with a soft, quivering whine at the stretch, fingers curling into the fitted sheet beneath you.

“There ya go,” George purred, slowly starting to thrust into you in lazy motions, “does that feel good, darling? Getting nice and full and stretched out on my cock? That’s what you wanted?”

“Yeah…” you withered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re so big,” you spoke dreamily, arching your back a little more to take him deeper, “Feels so fucking good.”

George let out a little pleasant hum of acknowledgement, keeping his large hands on your hips as he found a steady pace. His fingers pressed a little tighter into the flesh of your doughy hips, made fuller after birthing your son and one of George’s most favourite parts of you. So feminine, so maternal, so his.

“Delicious fucking body,” he moaned under his breath, starting to shove into you a little faster, “Just perfect to bear my children.”

“Yeah…” you whimpered, gasping out at his increase in pace, “wanna have your babies.”

“Oh, I know you do, sweet girl,” George cooed, countering his silky sweet voice with a sharp spank across your ass.

He took hold of your hips again, almost pulling you into his every thrust by his firm grip as he started to ram into you harder. You squealed as he hit deeper, harder, giving you every single inch until your eyes were rolling shut and your head dropped downwards with overwhelm.

“Fuck!” you shrieked, just louder than the clap of skin on skin that nearly echoed through the bedroom.

George moaned heartily from behind you, keeping his relentless pace going with his hands grabbing your hips so hard that there was certainly going to be fingerprints left behind. Without faltering, he moved his right hand underneath you and his hand splayed over your stomach, equally holding you together and feeling the way your body bounced in time with his every hard thrust. He panted handsomely behind you, laced in with soft moans that only heightened your senses tenfold. You loved that he could make you feel good, but it was even better knowing that you could make him feel good simultaneously.

His hand glided a little lower to get his fingertips on your clit and he rubbed messy circles right over that spot while he kept fucking you from behind. You cried out his name at the sudden stimulation, one hand flying forward to slam against the wall above the headboard for support, swearing you were seeing stars.

“Pull my hair,” you groaned pleadingly as if desperate to feel him absolutely everywhere you could, “Pull my hair and tell me you’ll knock me up.”

With his right hand still messily tending to your clit as he fucked you, George reached up with his other hand to grab a handful of your hair and he yanked it back, forcing your head up. You moaned loudly as the simple action tore electricity through you and you pushed yourself back into his thrusts until the lewd sound of your bodies colliding only filled the room more.

“You want that?” George taunted from behind you, his hand tightening in your hair, “Want to hear just how much I want to put a fucking baby in you right now?”

“Oh fuck…please!” you groaned.

“Please, what?” he asked hungrily from behind you, taking his hand from your clit to grab your shoulder as he picked up the pace a little more until the bed was creaking beneath you.

“Ahh!” you shrieked at his change in pace and angle, “Please come in me!”

George had a smirk to his voice—you could hear it despite the pleasure that overtook the both of you, binding you together—with his hands still firmly on your shoulders and almost yanking you back into his rough thrusts as he replied between breaths, “Yeah? You want me…to come in your pussy, baby? Keep this up…all night long?”

“Yeah, fuck, fill me up all night.” you withered, the words just pouring out of your mouth without thought, “Keep coming in me until it just leaks out—”

Just as you were falling into that dizzy cloud of pleasure-drunk euphoria, he stopped completely, fully inside you, letting out a strangled groan and a strained, “Fuck, okay, wait…”

You panted to try and catch your breath, trying to get your senses back with how fucking out of your mind you had been mere milliseconds earlier, “What?”

George exhaled strongly through pursed lips, his breathlessness just as apparent as yours, confessing, “I almost just fucking came…I need a second…”

“So what?” you countered, pushing your ass back on him to lazily and impatiently fuck yourself on his cock, “I want it.”

George took a hand back to give your ass a small smack through slightly slurred words, “Yeah, and I want to give you as much of me as possible, not three fuckin’ strokes.”

You chuckled softly, using that brief moment to catch your breath as he pulled out of you entirely. The sudden emptiness had you letting out a slight wince at the change and you moved yourself to be flat onto your stomach instead, draped diagonally across the bed and wrapping your arms around one of the pillows that were still somehow in place. George leaned over you and pulled open the bedside table drawer to find something, his warm skin pressing tacky against yours.

In your slight impatience, you glanced over at his hand buried in the drawer with a small sigh but you didn’t even have a chance to ask what he was looking for before he emerged with your favourite vibrator. You smiled as he passed it into your hand and pressed a kiss to your temple before he was situating himself behind you again. Adjusting yourself underneath him, now flat on your stomach, you pushed your ass up just enough to help him get his cock angled properly and for you to fit your hand under your body.

“Good?” you asked over your shoulder, feeling the way he dragged the head of his dick through the creamy mess of you.

“Mhm,” George set one hand down on the bed beside you as he leaned over you a little more and started to press inside you, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you couldn’t keep the smile out of your voice.

Your husband sank into you slowly just so you could savour the feeling of him stretching you out again, not to mention the low handsome moan he let out as he sheathed himself inside you as deep as he could go. You took a deep breath, pushing your hips up a little until you could feel the skin of his pelvis against your ass, eyelids fluttering at the fullness. George leaned down to kiss your shoulder blade before easing back and then pushing into you again.

“Wow, can’t believe a World Champion is fucking me right now,” you giggled teasingly, voice a little tight from pleasure, “I’m such a lucky lady.”

“Shut up,” George laughed breathily.

“Mmm,” you let your eyes flutter shut to focus on the feeling of his long deep strokes and, beneath your body, your hand pressed and held the power button on your vibrator until the soft buzzing sound filled the room. The touch of it against your sensitive clit had you gasping slightly, one arm still wrapped around the pillow under your head and your fingers pressed into the fabric a little tighter.

George moved down onto his forearms on either side of your head so his chest was almost entirely pressed against your back, his hips shoving a little harder against yours, jiggling the flesh of your ass with every thrust. You could feel his hot breath against your ear, even through your mess of hair that tumbled around your head, and when he reached a hand up to brush your hair over your shoulder so he could see your face, you couldn’t help the dreamy smile that came to your lips.

“There we go,” George panted, “Such a good girl for me.”

You adjusted the vibrator between your legs until it reached just the right spot, and, when it did, it rendered you speechless for a moment. The tumble of moans that fell from your lips were nearly fucked out of you from the way George was fucking you so deliciously, sharp precise thrusts that only helped to have your eyes fluttering closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip. His strong arms framed your head on either side of you, trapping you underneath him with almost all of his body weight on top of you. Regardless, you still tried to keep your hips lifted up enough to present yourself to him.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that—” you breathed out shakily

“Gonna make you come first,” George spoke lowly against your temple, “I want you…nice and open and relaxed…to take every last drop.”

“Please,” you gasped out.

The combination of the way he fucked you and the added sensations of the vibrator had you seeing stars, nearly drooling into the pillow beneath your head with the pleasured moans that tumbled from your lips. It was all so intense that your body must have started to flatten out to try and get away from it that George had to slide an arm under your hips to pull them back up just enough to keep you at the perfect position for him to take. You squealed into the pillow, struggling to keep holding your vibrator on your clit with how strong it was feeling, the warmth stirring hot in your belly and stretching through your veins.

“Come on,” he panted, hips snapping relentlessly against yours, “I’m not going to give you what you want until you come for me.”

You couldn’t help the broken cry that fell from your chest, eyes rolling shut, and you tried to smother your sounds into the pillow with your free hand clutching desperately at it. It ramped up fast, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you strong enough to make your limbs tremble and jerk beneath him. George groaned tightly at the feeling of you squeezing around him like a vice, making it harder to keep fucking you through it, but he kept it going.

“Good girl,” he praised strongly, slowing down just a little to give you a second to catch your breath as you gasped and groaned out of it.

You heaved your head from the pillow with a blissed out expression and heavy eyelids, lips swollen from biting them so hard with how tightly wound that had got you. You pulled your hand out from underneath you and turned off your vibrator, the silicone shimmering slightly from how wet you were and how you had leaked all over it. The toy was discarded aimlessly across the mattress, giving you both hands free to wrap back around the pillow as George adjusted himself on top of you again.

He set his forearms down on either side of you, sliding one under your collarbones and the other around your head, caging you in his loving arms. As he started to thrust into you a little harder and a little faster again, he let out a pretty grunt against your ear. With your cheek against the mattress, your mouth fell open with a soft gasp of pleasure, still drunk off the orgasm he had just given you and still feeling the aftershocks making your cunt pulse around his every thrust.

“Fuck,” George groaned thickly, “Jesus Christ, you’re so wet—”

“All for you,” you purred, all too aware, yourself, to the sounds of your sopping cunt taking his every thrust, harmonized by the creak of the bed beneath his efforts. Your hands moved to grasp his biceps, digging your nails into his muscle, grounding yourself in him, even as you tried to lift your ass up a little to meet his motions.

He was taking it a little harder now, shoving into you in firm thrusts with his entire body on top of you, the headboard starting to hit the wall in a steady rhythm. You swore he was as deep as he could go, feeling like you could feel every fucking inch of him plowing into you in quick succession, blurring the line between pleasure and pain until your nails were digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, you’re so deep, George—” you withered, eyes rolling shut, “Fuck, it hurts so fucking good. Please don’t stop!”

"Yeah, you like that, huh?" he mumbled against your temple, his tone full of smug satisfaction, "You like it when it hurts a little bit, don’t you?"

A string of words tumbled nonsensically from your lips, “Yeah, yeah, fuck, please—”

George’s breath fell hot against your cheek, his voice thick with lust and the exertion, his skin slick with sweat pressed right against yours until you couldn’t quite tell where you ended and he began. The filthy words were spoken right against your ear, felt through every nerve ending in your body, “You’re just my sweet obedient little wife, aren’t you? Just meant to be knocked up…just meant to be held down and fucking filled.”

You took one hand from his bicep to grab the edge of the mattress, feeling your body writhing beneath his weight as he fucked you face down into the bed, his strong arms caging you in. The sounds poured from your lips almost completely involuntarily, feeling entirely taken over by him, filled with this desire for him to just take you how he wanted. It had never felt so intensely primal before—even when you were trying for your son—so raw and real, like you felt like you might have actually died if he didn’t get you pregnant.

“Please,” you choked out again, eyes brimming with tears, fingers clawing at the sheets and his bicep, “Please, I need it…need you to come inside me…please—”

“Oh, my girl, you want my babies that badly?” he purred against your ear, breath hot, “How many y'gonna give me? Two? Three? A whole squad, yeah?”

“Whatever you want…however many you want…please, sir, please—” you sobbed over the sound of the headboard hitting the wall.

“Fuck, listen to you beg…so fucking pretty,” George groaned through his teeth.

He moved a hand to wrap his slender fingers around your throat, pulling your head out of the pillow so you were gaping towards the wall with the dumbest expression of pleasure on your flushed face. It felt like a nearly out of body experience it was so good, your entire body tingling with need and still immensely sensitive from your orgasm, making his every hard thrust feel like perfection. You barely acknowledged his two fingers pressing their way into your mouth, accepting them without complaint with your lips wrapping around them with a pleasured whine.

George’s breath was panted hot against your skin, laced in with the odd moan, parted and swollen lips grazing your cheek. He ploughed into you at that same relentless pace but as the seconds passed, it started to get a little sloppier, a little more desperate.

“Shit, I’m gonna come—” he grunted, voice thick.

You could hardly mutter another pathetic “please” around his fingers, trying to lift your hips up to invite him deeper, even if he had you entirely pinned under his weight and was as deep as he could go. In only a few more seconds, his body shuddered on top of you, head dropping forward onto your shoulder, and he gave you one more sharp thrust as deep as he possibly could. With a handsome gasping moan from your husband, you could feel the thick warmth spurting inside you as he ground into you in small pleasured spasms.

“Ooh, my God…” you withered, toes curling at the sensation and fingers tightening around the fitted sheet and pillows beneath you. You swore you were literally salivating, a blissed out smile coming to your lips as he gave you what you wanted.

“Can you feel that?” George panted from on top of you, his pelvis pressed tightly against your ass, giving you every inch to feel the way his cock twitched dully inside you, throbbing against your tight muscles and spilling more right at your cervix, “It’s still coming.”

“Yeah, keep it in there,” you breathed, reaching a hand back to grab his thigh to keep him from pulling out.

“I know, baby,” George’s hand stroked over your frazzled hair, his voice warm and thick, “That’s all for you.”

When he finally finished coming, the two of you stayed where you were for a moment longer, catching your breaths. George leaned down to trail some kisses along your neck, loosening his arms from around you to give you a bit of space.

“Jesus…” he whispered, his voice ragged and rough as his senses started to come back to him, “That was...that was intense.”

You giggled blissfully and, with him still inside you and now motionless, you ground your ass back on him a little to make sure you got every last drop.

“Ugh, honey,” George groaned tightly, leaning back from you a little more to press a hand on the small of your back to hold you still, “Don’t do that.”

“Why?” you bit back a coy smile.

“Because it’s too much,” he exhaled, his body still trembling from the aftershocks and even though you could feel him softening a little inside you, his cock still twitched ever so faintly. “I’m too sensitive right now.”

George slowly pulled out and you cautiously rolled over so you were on your back, sprawled out on your bed, and propped up on your elbows with your legs spread lazily. Beneath you, your fitted sheet now had an impressive wet splotch on it and George grasped your ankles in one hand to guide your legs towards your chest, letting his other press against the soiled fabric.

“I think you actually soaked it through to the mattress,” George chuckled lightly.

“That wasn’t entirely my fault,” you protested playfully, blinking dreamily up at him.

As if interrupting your moment, your body let out a little squeak of air, made almost bubbly from how filled by him you were. Both caught by surprise, you met each other’s gaze and then burst into soft laughter together. George let go of your ankles and, instead, set his hands on the backs of your thighs to keep your legs back, staring down at your sopping pussy and what a mess you were right down to the trimmed hair that was matted with various fluids. Your body forced out another queef.

“God, you’re a fucking goddess,” George exhaled. He dropped a hand down to gently prod at your pussy with the pad of his thumb and almost right away, a thick glob of white dripped out of you and down between your cheeks and onto the ruined sheets below.

You hummed at the feeling, splayed out in front of him and still propped up on your elbows, watching him watch you, and after just a second, George leaned in towards you and you shared a few sloppy kisses. You moved one hand to grasp the back of his neck as you took what you wanted from his lips, your heart racing in your chest and your kisses made a little ungraceful from your shared smiles. After only a few seconds, George broke away from your lips and looked back down between your spread legs, moving his hand to grasp the shaft of his cock and then slide the tip along your slick pussy just as more of his cum leaked out of you. He gathered it back up that way and pressed it back inside you as if not wanting to waste a single drop.

With only the tip inside you, he asked in a voice slightly, “Can you take more?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, staring up at him with blown wide eyes, your hand still at the back of his neck giving him a little tug to try and get his lips back onto yours.

“Yeah, of course you can,” he chuckled—as if he should have already suspected the answer—just before he pressed his lips to yours and then sunk farther inside you.

With your hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him down after you as you laid flat on your back on the bed, making sure he wouldn’t stop kissing you even as you shifted. He followed after you expertly, resting on his flat hands on either side of you and bent down just enough to continue your sloppy kisses as his hips pushed themselves flush against yours. Despite having been absolutely railed by him only seconds earlier, your body still stretched around him to accommodate his every inch once more, allowing that warm tingling pressure to spread between your legs and over your hips and deep inside you. Your fingers tangled in the roots of his hair and you groaned into his mouth at the feeling.

“Mmm, stretchin’ me out so good.” you mumbled against his lips.

“You’re so tight and perfect for me, my love,” he murmured, breaking your kiss just far enough to stare down into your eyes, his expression dark with desire, “You were made just for me, weren’t you?”

“Yeah…” you breathed in reply.

You didn’t put up an argument as he guided your legs up so your calves were resting on his shoulders as he knelt before you and he slowly started to move in languid, delicious motions, back and forth, thrusting into you in a dizzying rhythm. Your eyes fluttered as you stared up at him, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth and your hands absentmindedly grasping onto the fitted sheet beneath you. All you could think about as you stared up at him like that, his handsome face bathed in a light flush that carried down his chest and his caramel skin glistening in a thin sheen of sweat, was watching him on the top step of the podium that weekend, fresh out of the car, the newest World Champion. Your champion. Fuck.

The reminder had you writhing, trying to push your hips up to encourage him on, fisting the fitted sheet. George hushed you as he set one large hand on your lower abdomen, keeping you down on the bed as he continued to roll his hips into yours nice and deep. He pressed his palm down nice and firmly, adding a bit of a squeeze to where he was nestled inside you and undoubtedly feeling every thrust of his cock. That very same spot where he rested his hand was where you had carried your son and where, you would hope, you would have the privilege to carry another little blessing. Almost out of instinct, you dropped a hand down to rest over his on your abdomen.

“Want to make a baby in you…right here—” he whispered lowly as he stared down into your eyes, hand still pressing firmly in place.

“Please,” you withered, feeling his words ignite your every nerve ending through your body.

“Ugh, fuck, darling,” George grunted sweetly, “when you clench like that it makes me wanna fuck you deeper.”

“Do it. Do it, please—” you begged pitchily and moved your hand from his to grab his wrist, almost willing to do anything for him to give you more.

George leaned farther down over top of you so his hands were on either side of your head and your legs were trapped over his shoulders, nearly having you bent in half. He could get incredibly deep that way, giving you every fucking inch, and almost right away he was picking up the pace at the same time. You shrieked at the change, fingers pressing into his biceps.

“There you go,” he purred, wrapping one hand around your throat in a firm squeeze, just how you liked it, “that’s it.”

You were rendered speechless for a moment, gaping up at him as he pounded into you harder and held you down by his hand around your throat. The bed was creaking faintly underneath you again and, as if he liked it loud, George shifted his position just a little so that every purposeful thrust also had the headboard starting to hit the wall. You cried out to the ceiling, head arching back against the mattress, hands splaying over the sheets to fist them in your white-knuckled grip.

“You’re gonna look so fucking gorgeous pregnant…carrying our baby…” he panted thickly, “My perfect wife making me a whole little brood.”

“Yeah, please, come in me,” you stumbled out, trying to force your eyes to stay open and locked on his.

“You want more, hm?” he taunted, “Already came so much that it’s leaking out of you and you want to be filled more? It’s gonna be dipping out of you for days.”

You could feel your eyes rolling shut at his words and his gorgeous threat and how they sounded behind the very obvious squelch of his cock plowing into your sloppy cunt over and over and over. He could move so easily with how soaked you were, streaking his cum over your thighs and ass and his pelvis and the length of his dick, making everything so ridiculously messy. All you could think about was how good it felt as he had you lingering on that precipice between pain and pleasure again, his hand tight around your throat and his thick cock so deep inside you that it was nearly kissing your cervix with every thrust.

With one hand still fisting the sheets, your other habitually dropped between your bodies to rub furiously at your clit, fingers slipping over it easily with how soaked everything was. You choked over your breath at the startling sensations, sobbing out a broken, “Fuck! I’m gonna come!”

“Yeah, baby?” George taunted, his voice thick with need, “You gonna come on my cock? Gonna make a mess all over me?”

All you could reply with was a pitchy and uncontrollable chant of, “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”, in time with the creak of the bed and the dizzying clap of wet skin on skin.

George groaned, his body responding to every sound you made, the chorus of sights and sounds and smells taking him over as it did you. This voice was tight as he kept his hand firmly around your throat, squeezing the sides just under your jaw, encouraging you with a low, “That’s it, baby. Come for me.”

Your legs were nearly vibrating over his shoulders as your impending orgasm built and built inside you, filling your veins with intense warmth and coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach. You knew you were making noise—and a lot of it—but details were so hazy as the intensity overtook you and left you almost feeling like you were in some dream-like experience. The moment you came around him, your muscles clenching up tight around him, his name fell from your lips with a wet sob and you writhed against the bed, struggling under the way he held you down by your throat.

“Fuck! Good girl!” George praised loudly, still thrusting insistently into you even as you tensed right up around him.

“Oh my God!” you gasped out of it, hands flying to grab onto any part of him you could, “Yes! Shit!”

George moved with ease as he grabbed your arms and immediately pinned your wrists down to the mattress on either side of your head without missing a beat. He rammed into you harder, rougher, faster, taking you as he wanted until your oversensitive body was nearly vibrating and the room was a myriad of lewd sounds and surely filling the whole house. You were so fucking soaked by then that it was almost impressive how loud his skin clapped against yours with every thrust, just adding to the intensity of the moment.

“Please, George, please!” you shrieked, pleasured tears burning your eyes even as they screwed shut with overwhelm, “Come inside me! Put a baby in me! Fuck, I need it so bad, darling, please. Please…please, I wanna make you a daddy again.”

“Yeah, you will, my sweet girl,” George groaned through his sloppy thrusts, “Gonna be such a good little wife…and carry another perfect little angel for me, aren't you?”

“Yeah, gimme it, please!” you let the words tumble from your lips without thought, “Every drop…inside me…please…please…”

You could already feel him throbbing inside you despite the intensity with which he fucked you, taking you right into the mattress like he owned you, your legs still secure over his shoulders. The two of you were for sure quite the erotic sight; bodies entangled in such an intense position as he held you down and prepared to come inside you for the second consecutive time, your panted breaths mingling and pleasured sounds harmonizing with the slam of the headboard against the wall.

“Gonna come so fucking deep inside your perfect little cunt…” George said through his teeth, his voice thick with pleasure, “right at your cervix…make sure it takes…make sure you’re properly knocked up…”

You didn’t even have a chance to voice any more begging before his face was screwing up in over-sensitive pleasure and he gave you one particularly deep thrust. At the feeling of the first spurt, your hands tore from his and flew down to grab at his ass and his waist, nails digging into his flesh and holding him inside you as deep as he could go as you stared up into his eyes and watched the orgasm tear through his expression. You withered at the sight and the feel of it, not to mention the way your cunt fluttered around him at the feeling of him throbbing inside you as if to pull everything out of him.

“Fuck, George…” you breathed dreamily.

“Mmph…” he moaned tightly, grinding his hips against yours a little more before easing down onto forearms on either side of your head and your legs dropped from his shoulders, “Jesus Christ…”

Your hands slid up his sides and took his face in your palms to guide his lips to yours, both of you breathless and spent and barely able to kiss with how you heaved for air. Your husband’s pretty eyes could hardly stay open as he tried to catch his bearings and he settled right down on top of you and tucked his face in the crook of your neck, his body trembling a little from the remanence of the aftershocks. He was utterly spent and boneless, and almost looked like he didn’t want to or more rather couldn’t move ever again.

You laughed ever so softly at his sudden exhaustion after all that excitement and you ran your hands up and down his toned back, sharing in his moment to just breathe. His weight on top of you was comforting and familiar and helped to calm you down, your eyes falling shut to bask in the moment as you stayed entangled as one for a little longer.

“I love you,” you breathed as your finger trailed down the vertebrae of his spine.

“Mm, I love you,” George echoed, planting a kiss to the apex of your neck and your shoulder. He then took a deep, shaky breath and lifted his head up to meet your gaze, “That was…something.”

You giggled softly and rubbed his broad shoulders, “I think we’re done.”

He chuckled breathily and rested his forehead against yours, “Yeah, we’re definitely done. I don't think I can move ever again.”

“You put in work all weekend…and still managed to perform the grand finale tonight,” you played along.

George lifted his head back to look you in the eye again with a playful, “I can’t tell if I’m offended that you think this outshone my championship or if I’m in agreement.”

The two of you shared breathy laughter and a few tender kisses before he was slowly pulling out of you and laying beside you on the bed. Despite the damp fitted sheet beneath you, neither of you minded in that moment, too focused on each other and coming down from those intense blissful highs you shared. George’s arm wrapped around you as you snuggled into his side, tangled up against the pillows that were half falling off the bed, nothing but the laboured sound of your breathing filling the once noisy room.

George’s cheek rested against your head as you laid on his chest, feeling the rapid thudding of his heartbeat under your palm and the smoothness of his toned pecs. He turned his face towards yours to leave a kiss to your forehead and then he let out a tired exhale, draping his free arm above his head. You looked up at him from your spot, taking a second to admire the angles of his jaw and the messiness of his hair and the flush that still lingered down his neck and over his collarbones.

“I’m so proud of you.”

You hadn’t meant to say it, at least not out loud, but it was the truth. George glanced at you in return, a calm smile on his face, and his hand gave your shoulder a squeeze, his lips pressing to your temple.

“Thank you, my love,” he breathed, “Couldn’t have done it without you though.”

“Don’t say that,” you tutted, “You’ve been working for this far longer than you’ve known me.”

“And yet it didn’t happen until I knew you…until you were my wife…the mother of my child…”

You smiled as you stared back into his eyes, correcting him with a soft, “Children.”

George shared in your smile, his expression melting, “Yes, hopefully.”

You both leaned in for a kiss or two or three until you were interrupted by a squeak of air being pushed from your cunt. George broke away from your lips with a breathy chuckle and he dropped his hand down your body to help himself between your thighs, fingertips gliding over your pussy to collect the creamy globs of cum that had leaked out of you and he pushed it back in with two fingers.

“I tried to clench,” you laughed lightly.

“You did great,” George smiled against your temple.

He left another kiss there before he was rolling away to grab a tissue from the box on the bedside table to come back to your side and start to clean you up. Propped up on his arm beside you, he wiped up the mess between your legs with the tissue and you took that moment to just stare at him some more and how he took care of you. Oh, you were so in love with him.

“Wanna push any more out?” he asked.

“It’s okay,” you said, “I’ll just go to the bathroom.”

“Okay.”

George gave you one more wipe and folded the soiled tissue in a clean one as you cautiously moved to sit up. More little queefs slipped out as you moved positions and started to stand up and with a proud fucking smirk, he reached to take your arm to make sure you were stable on your feet. Once you were steady on your still-slightly-trembling legs, you took the tissue from him to take to the bathroom with you to dispose of.

You took your time in the ensuite to use the toilet and clean yourself up at the sink with a damp cloth, having to hold yourself steady on the side of the vanity. When you emerged back into the bedroom, George was remaking the bed with fresh sheets, the soiled ones in a heap by the door in desperate need to be washed. He was in a fresh pair of boxers but otherwise naked, hair still sticking up in ridiculous directions and his body looking absolutely gorgeous in the fading light of the late afternoon. There was a clean pair of underwear and a pyjama set folded for you on the dresser.

“You take such good care of me,” you gushed sweetly as you started to pull on the clothes to keep yourself from catching a chill.

George glanced over at you as he pulled the duvet back on the bed, “Of course, it’s the least I can do for my wonderful wife.”

Once the bed was made, you climbed into your side despite it being barely evening, and you collapsed back against the pillows and headboard with a content sigh.

“Feeling alright?” George asked as he finished fluffing his pillows.

You lolled your head to the side to look at him with an adoring smile, “Yeah. Just fucking tired out.”

“Me too, not to mention that horribly long flight we had,” he set a knee on the mattress to lean towards you and gave your lips a brief kiss as his hand gave your abdomen a little caress over the duvet around your hips. The implication of his action was not lost on you. He stood up again, “Should we order something special for dinner and then get some sleep, you reckon? We’ll have to be up in good time tomorrow to pick up the little guy.”

“That sounds great, love,” you replied softly, and then, before he could ask what you wanted for dinner, you said, “Whatever my World Champion wants to eat sounds good to me.”

Mid-December

The season ended around three weeks later, allowing Formula 1’s newest World Champion to travel home to you for winter break. As much as you enjoyed seeing George race during the year, watching him doing what he loved, there was something about winter break that made your unconventional relationship feel comfortingly normal.

You and your son picked him up from the airport, the toddler donning a ‘Welcome Home’ balloon tied loosely around his wrist, and it went flying in all directions as he ran across the linoleum floor of the ‘Arrivals’ gate once George emerged from within. Beaming, George dropped his backpack and crouched down to welcome his son into his arms and as soon as the little boy was in his grasp, he stood up and lifted up high into the air to send the toddler giggling. Then, snuggling him close to his chest, George peppered his chubby cheeks in kisses.

The toddler pointed to the balloon floating above them, “B’oon, Daddy,”

“Yes, I see the balloon!” George said with a smile, “Is that for me?”

The little boy nodded with a grin, earning him another proud kiss from his father and a pet of his hair. You joined the little reunion and received a kiss of your own from George and you shared a whispered greeting between smiles.

The drive home was calm through the English countryside and your son chatted away happily from his carseat in the back of George’s Mercedes, little sticky fingers pressing against the window and light-up sneakers kicking against the seat in front of him. But the two of you in the front seat were unbothered by your son’s restlessness; with George’s hand on your thigh as he drove your little family safely home. It felt like peace had been restored once George was home and knowing he was all yours for a few weeks made it even better. Despite this, you fiddled with his hand on your lap, absentmindedly spinning his wedding ring around his finger.

He glanced over at you, “You okay, love?”

You looked at him in return with a small smile, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

In reality, in the five days that George had been away, you had started feeling a little unlike yourself; mainly incredibly fatigued to the point that you actually had started napping when your son napped and going to bed at his bedtime too. You knew the last time you had experienced such intense fatigue was when you were pregnant with him and that reminder had your mind swirling. It had only been three weeks of actively trying to conceive and you had partially convinced yourself that it wasn’t going to be as easy as it had been with your son; perhaps that was just beginner’s luck. But, here you were, nearly falling asleep in the passenger seat of George’s car at barely noon.

Once home, it was about time for your son’s nap but he was far too zazzed to even think about sleeping. George ended up carrying him up and down the second floor hallway, rubbing his back, letting him talk himself to sleep in the long-awaited comfort of his father’s arms. It always seemed to do the trick. The toddler was then tucked into bed and George quietly closed his bedroom door behind him.

George had assumed you would be bringing his suitcase upstairs while he took care of the kid but when he stepped into your shared bedroom, there was no sign of you or the suitcase. It wasn’t until he walked back downstairs that he found you, sitting on the bottom step, draped over the top of his suitcase, and fast asleep. With a fond smile, George descended the rest of the staircase and joined you on the bottom step, gently moving you to lean against him instead. You stirred a little.

“Alright there, sleeping beauty?” he teased against your temple.

You lifted your head up to flutter your eyes open to meet his gaze, “M’okay.”

“Do you want to go for a nap too?” he tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

You spoke an unrelated reply in a voice barely over a breath, “I took a pregnancy test on Thursday.”

George’s eyebrows raised and you could feel his arm around you tighten, “And?”

“Couldn’t tell what it was,” you confessed, “It’s upstairs…you can look at it…thought I’d wait a few more days and try again and then maybe you could be with me.”

“Yeah, of course,” George smiled, his voice so light and warm, and although he was trying to be caring, you could hear the hint of impatience in his words, “Are you up to that right now?”

“Based on how fucking exhausted I’ve been feeling and how tender my boobs are, I’m, like, 99% sure I know the answer but…I want to know for sure.” you said definitively.

So you and George ended up in your ensuite bathroom, you on the toilet with a fresh pregnancy test between your legs and him at the vanity squinting at the one you took four days earlier. If you really looked, you could see a faint second line but you also had started to tell yourself that maybe you were just imagining what you wanted to see.

“I dunno, I definitely think there are two lines, love,” George stated, turning the pregnancy test into the light a little more.

“Really?” you replied before holding out the newest one to him to take.

He turned to take it from you and he capped it and set it on the counter while you finished up on the toilet and flushed. You washed your hands beside him at the vanity, watching how he set a three minute timer on his phone and then went back to staring at the old test.

“Yeah, seems so,” he set it down on the counter alongside the new one as you began your three-minute wait for the results.

“I was just thinking that it feels a little crazy to get pregnant so quickly,” you explained, snaking your arms around his middle and he pulled you into him, “Like, it was fast with our first but…having that happen again? Doesn’t it take most people a few months of trying?”

George shrugged, “Maybe we’re just extra fertile.”

You snorted lightly.

“And we’ve been trying pretty consistently,” he reminded you, keeping your gaze through the mirror, “After Brazil and then almost every second day since…”

“Maybe you just have speedy sperm too,” you played along.

George dropped his head back with a small groaning laugh, his arm around you instinctively pulling you closer. You rested your head against his and stared at your reflection in the mirror, how the two of you looked together, how the warmth of his body felt against yours. He was familiar, he was home.

Between your exhaustion and George’s tiredness after his flight, neither of you spoke much as you waited there in the bathroom for the timer to go off. You appreciated the comfort of each other’s presence in the face of this slightly nerve-wracking moment. Of course you hoped for a positive but you knew that if it were negative, you had only just started trying anyway. There was always going to be time.

When George’s phone alarm went off, he shut it off and then gave you a squeeze, “Ready?”

“Think so,” you smiled at him through the mirror.

“You’re trembling,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’m nervous,” you giggled softly and reached with a shaky hand to pick up the new test.

It was still face down and you lingered there for a moment. George glanced at you as if wanting to tell you to hurry up but he didn’t push you, letting you take a breath before, finally, turning it over in your hand. You both leaned in to see the result.

Compared to the one taken four days earlier, this second line was unmistakable, staring back at you in a fierce shade of dark pink.

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neeeooon · 8 hours ago

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HII HELLOO HI HI HI HOW ARE YOUUUU

CAN WE GET LIKE PART 2 FOR BLLK BOYS FINDING OUT ABOUT THEIR KID, LIKE AS I. CONTINUATION WHAT HAPPENS AFTER MEETING THE KIDDO

YESSS i added the boys u guys voted for most!! (reo has his own oneshot here!!)

when they find out they have a kid, cont.

ex-husband!bllk x fem!reader. angst, (most get) happy-ish endings! chigiri, shidou, and rin’s kids have names

itoshi sae

-> the three of you sat at the table, you and your son on one side and your ex-husband on the other. your son was wiggling around in excitement, eager to jump on and hug his father, but you’d warned him against it. you knew how sae felt about touch and didn’t want him to be even more uncomfortable around his son

-> “does he have to use the restroom?” sae asked when he noticed your son’s restlessness. you shot him a glare. “he’s not a dog. he’s excited to meet you, that’s all.” “oh.”

-> if the comment made your son feel any sort of way, he didn’t show it. “are you really the soccer player from tv?!” sae looked at you before nodding once. it set your son off again, causing him to tug on your sleeve in excitement. “see, mama, see! i told you it’s him! i told you he’s my daddy!”

-> you opened your mouth to explain that it wasn’t that simple, but your son continued as he danced around the kitchen. “and he’s here, which means you’re getting back together!” “huh?!” “and i’ve always wanted a little brother or sister!” “okay, calm down.”

-> you wanted to give your son some alone time with his dad, but it was clear that sae was getting overwhelmed by the hyperactive child. it was strange how his son reminded him more of his brother than himself from when they were young

-> after putting your son down for a nap, you retook your spot across from sae, who was staring very intensely at his clasped hands. you felt a pang of… something as you watched him, and your voice came out extremely soft as you asked, “how are you feeling, sae?”

-> he struggling to meet your eyes right away, but when he did you could see unshed emotion in them. “i don’t… know what to do. he’s mine. my kid. i have a kid. my parents are grandparents. my brother’s an uncle. and i had no idea.”

-> “you didn’t exactly give me the chance after you left me, after you told me how much you regretted us. me. but he’s here now, and he wants you to be his father, so let’s not play the blame game.” sae seemed a bit taken aback by your harsh tone, completely contradicting how quiet you were a moment ago. “you’re right. i’m sorry.” “don’t be sorry. be here. be his dad.”

-> sae couldn’t stay in town long, but he promised your son that he’d visit as soon as he was available. there wasn’t a smile on his stoic face, but when your son ran forward and hugged his legs, telling sae he loved him, sae patted the boy’s head and said, “i’ll see you soon.”

michael kaiser

-> your daughter happily ate her choco bears, unaware of the tension at the table. you sat across from kaiser, who was picking at the skin around his fingers to the point where if you didn’t mention it, you thought he’d start bleeding

-> you don’t know what compelled you to reach over and cover his hand with yours, but kaiser looked as surprised as you did. stammering for some sort of explanation, you gave up and went to pull your hand back until he grabbed it. neither of you said anything as you turned your attention back to your daughter

-> she raised a quizzical brow at her dad. “you look old.” you choked on a laugh as kaiser choked on air. “i’m not—! okay. how old are you, again?” your daughter humphed and admired one of her choco bears. “mama said i’m not supposed to give my age to strange men.”

-> you thought the comment would offend your ex, but he only scoffed. there was a slight, amused grin tugging at his lips. “well, your mama is right.” at the sudden softness of his voice, your daughter sank down into her chair and avoided his eyes. “… you’re my papa, aren’t you?”

-> kaiser swallowed hard. “yes.” “why didn’t you come to my birthday, then?” your heart broke, and the way kaiser’s fingers tightened around your hand showed you that his did as well. “i didn’t, um… i’ll be there for your next one, if you’ll have me.” “will you bring me more choco bears?” “all the choco bears you could ever dream for.” that wins her over. “okay!”

-> she lost interest in the conversation after that and tuned you out while she played a game on your phone. though she wasn’t paying attention, you kept your voice low as you leaned closer to your ex-husband

-> “i’m sorry for never texting. it was wrong of me to keep her from you.” kaiser squeezed your hand in return, trying to show you an ounce of comfort. “it’s not okay, but it’s the past. we can’t change the past, we can only… move on.” the kaiser you knew would never say something like that, and it left you reeling

-> “i want to be in her life, y/n.” “i want that, too. i want us to start over, micha. can we try? as her parents? as friends?” his smile is pained, but his voice is determined. “yes.”

isagi yoichi

-> thankfully, isagi didn’t fight you anymore that day and went home. you got his number from bachira, texting him a time and date to officially meet his daughter

-> “mama, what if he doesn’t like me?” after you told your daughter what was happening, her smile faded into a pout. you quickly hugged her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “no, baby, don’t think like that. he won’t hate you!” “but what if—“ “if he hurts your feelings, uncle bachira and i will hurt his much worse.” you made a silly face to make her laugh and tickled her side before sending her to bed

-> isagi was prepared when he arrived at your house the next morning with breakfast and flowers. peeking around your legs, your daughter gasped at the sight of the sweet pastries. she was on the shyer side, so while you could tell she wanted to grab them and run to share with her ‘uncle,’ she wouldn’t move unless given the go-ahead

-> you took the items from isagi’s hands and offered him a polite smile. “thank you.” as you reached for the flowers, you handed the box of pastries to your daughter and scoffed when she darted into the kitchen with her goodies

-> isagi awkwardly rubbed his nape, still standing in the doorway. “i want to apologize for how i acted yesterday. i was shocked and angry and i took it out on you.” you shook your head and stepped aside for him to enter. “i… understand. why you were angry, i mean. that doesn’t mean i appreciate getting yelled at, but i know that if i was in your position, i’d be upset, too.”

-> “then why not tell me? why keep her from me all these years? i would have loved being a dad, y/n.” something in his voice caught, and the sound felt like driving a knife through your chest. “i know things got all fucked once we got married, but you were my best friend first. i should have checked in on you. i should have paid closer attention. i should have at least sent a text, making sure you were alright.” “yoichi—“i’m not saying it’s all my fault, and i’m still pretty pissed at you for keeping this from me, but i made mistakes, too.”

-> brushing off the silence that fell between you, you put your differences aside and beckoned isagi into the kitchen, where your daughter was drooling over a chocolate croissant. “you can eat if you’re hungry,” isagi offered with a smile, and your daughter didn’t need to be told twice before devouring the pastry

-> “are you really my dad?” isagi choked on his muffin. “um, yeah..” “okay. are you gonna live here now?” “sweetheart—“ “i work a lot,” isagi began with a gentle look. “but if your mom lets me, i’d love to be around more. maybe take you to or pick you up from school.”

-> your daughter loves school, so the fact that he mentioned it all on his own made her eyes sparkle. “really?! and we can go to the park after!” “if that’s what you want—“ “and eat more yummy pastries!” isagi was laughing now. “okay, and eat more pastries. that sounds like a plan.”

shidou ryusei

-> “this is miss poofikins!” your daughter said as she shoved a teddy bear with a tutu into shidou’s arms. “and this is princess buttersquash!” a yellow unicorn. “and that’s fred!” fred was a green monster plushie that you actually got from a pet store, she loved it too much to let you leave without it

-> shidou, slightly overwhelmed, graciously accepted the toys and held them close to make sure none of them fell on the floor. “wow, sachi. i’m so jealous!” your daughter beamed and ran off to grab more from her collection, leaving you alone again with your ex-husband

-> “listen,” you began slowly. “you don’t have to stay. you can walk away now if this is too much. i can handle her on my own—“ “don’t.” you waited for him to continue. “she’s… y/n, i want to be apart of her life. of both your lives. i wasn’t talking out of my ass when i said i’ve changed since we were married.” “… i know.”

-> still holding all three plushies with his arms and chest, shidou reached out and grasped your hand. “i’m serious, y/n. i want this, more than anything. fuck, more that soccer, i think.” you didn’t know why, but your eyes began to ache with incoming tears. “ryu…”

-> his arms were around you before the first tears fall. you laughed when sachi’s plushies pressed between your bodies, but slowly hugged him back regardless. “i’m so sorry, ryusei. i’m so sorry for keeping her from you. for believing that, that,” you couldn’t think of a word insulting enough to describe all you felt for your mother, so you settled with, “bitch.”

-> his laugh rumbled through your body. “whatever. let’s not waste anymore time. i’m here now, i’m all in, if you’ll let me be.” “i will. i want you here with us. with me. i can’t… i don’t want to do this alone anymore.”

-> you felt his lips against your temple, and though there was nothing romantic about the kiss, it made you feel warm inside. “let’s go check on our girl, alright?” you hummed and squeezed shidou once more before letting go. “yeah.”

chigiri hyoma

-> “so…” “so.” “… why is your hair so long?” “😐”

-> you can’t help but snicker at the conversation going on between your son and his father. despite his young age, hikari has a large personality, and you can tell chigiri sees himself before the injury in him

-> “so you, like, play soccer?” “why do you talk like you’re twelve? you’re only six.” “yeah, six inches deep in your—“ “hikari! you really need to stop hanging out with those fifth graders.”

-> despite himself, chigiri laughs. “do you even know what that means, kid?” “…” you rub the ache from your forehead and sigh. “well, i’m at a loss. where do you boys wanna go from here? we fighting for custody, or will this be civil?”

-> chigiri shoots hikari a look before blinking at you. “um, is he allowed to hear this?” “he’ll find out eventually, might as well get his say.” “but he’s six.” “six inch—“ you cover his mouth with your palm. “are you gonna come around, or am i doing this alone?”

-> your bluntness surprises your ex-husband. “i’m in this.” “good,” you nod, posture slouching. “‘cause i am so tired, hyoma.”

-> it’s getting late, so you excuse yourself to tuck your son into bed before you can return to your conversation with your ex. “mom?” “yes, hun?” “do i have to change my name to chigiri hikari? cause that sounds dumb..” you chuckle and give him a kiss on the forehead. “no, you don’t have to change your name. tell me, though… how do you feel about having him around more?”

-> hikari doesn’t hesitate. “well, he’s fun to make fun of, and he’s my dad, right? he should be around… and you won’t be lonely when i’m not here if he’s around.” “oh, honey, don’t worry about me. all i want is for you to be safe and happy, okay?” “okay. g’night.”

-> you find chigiri exactly where you left him. “i have a spare bedroom, if you’d like to stay. i don’t know what your situation is like right now, but if you want to stay and help raise your son, rent is due on the 11th.” “rent?” “mhm! i pushed him out of me and have been providing for six years. you can pay rent.” “… i’ll have your check ready in the morning.”

BONUS! itoshi rin (i had a few reqs for him :p)

-> “will you come play more tomorrow?” your daughter asked. rin’s soft smile fell, but only for a second. “i actually have to fly back to work tomorrow.” “oh..” “but how about this weekend?” she lit up. “really?!”

-> you smiled as you watched the two interact. they’d gotten so comfortable with each other so quick, and your daughter even asked rin to hold her when her legs got tired from standing

-> you weren’t surprised when you checked on them after cleaning up to find emi fast asleep in her dad’s arms. the sight made you want to cry, and you were overcome by a wave of guilt that left tears in your eyes

-> when rin noticed your presence, he gave a small finger-wave, trying not to move too much with the six-year-old in his arms. “hey,” he whispered when you moved to sit on the floor beside his legs

-> “how was it today?” you asked him, fingers toying with the end of your daughter’s navy blue dress. he hummed. “good. she’s a great kid, y/n. you did good.”

-> your exhale was shaky as you dropped your face into your hand. “i feel so awful, rin. how did this happen to us? i should have been the bigger person, not for me, but for her. she didn’t deserve to lose all these years with you just because i wasn’t brave enough to reach out and—“

-> the feel of rin’s fingers grazing your jaw shut you up. his eyes are intense and glimmering as he stares down at you. “don’t. there’s no point anymore. i’m here now, that’s what matters. that and her.” you nod and sink into his touch. “that and her.”

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3

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